“It is but two or three years since you spoke in the same tone, possibly the same words, to Rachel!  At least, knowing her as I do, I feel sure she would have yielded to no common amount of persuasion.  She was mad, weak to a degree to listen to you; but she was alone, and love is so sweet.”

“It is,” cried De Burgh, passionately.  “Why will you turn from love as true, as intense as ever was offered to woman, merely because I let myself fall into an error but too common—­”

“Is it not a mere accident of our respective positions that you happen to seek me as your wife?” said Katherine, a slight curl on her lip; “and how can I feel sure that in time you will not weary of me as you did of her?”

“The cases are utterly unlike.  So long as the world lasts, men and women too will act as Rachel Trant and I did; Nature is too strong for social laws and religious maxims.”

“And you said you had never done anything to be ashamed of?” she exclaimed, bitterly.

“Nor have I!” said De Burgh, stoutly, “if I were tried by the standard of our world.  How can you know—­how can you judge?”

“I do not judge, I have no right to judge,” said Katherine, brokenly.  “I only know that, when I saw your eyes meet Rachel’s I felt a great gulf had suddenly opened between us, a gulf that cannot be bridged.  I do not understand and cannot judge, as you say, and I am sorry for you too; but if life is to be this miserable shuffling of chances, this jumble of injustice, I would rather die than live.  No, Lord de Burgh, I will go.”

“Good Heavens!  Katherine, you are trembling; you can hardly stand.  I am a brute to keep you; but I cannot help clutching my only chance of happiness.  You are an angel!  Dispose of me as you will; but in mercy give me some hope.  I’ll wait; I’ll do anything.”

“Oh, no, no.  It is impossible.  I am so fond of her; and you will find many to whom your past will be nothing; for me it is irrevocable.  The world seems intolerable; let me go;” and she burst into such bitter sobs that her whole frame shook.

“I must not keep you now; but I shall not give you up.  I will write.  Oh, Katherine, you would not destroy me!” He seized and passionately kissed her hand, which she tore from him, and fled from the room.

When Rachel Trant escaped from the presence of her dearest friend and her ex-lover, she could scarcely see or stand.  Thankful not to meet anyone, she hastily left the house, and, somewhat revived by the air, she made her way to a secluded part of the Kensington Gardens.  Here she found a seat, and, still palpitating with the shock she had sustained, strove to reduce the chaotic whirl of her thoughts to something like order.